Donut Heaven
by KKBELVIS
Summary: Kiko joins a gang. Angst and hc Hutch. Loosely based on the unfilmed script: 'A Day In A Life Of A Cop.'h.
1. Chapter 1

DONUT HEAVEN

BY: Karen B.

Summary: Kiko joins a gang. Angst and h/c Hutch.

Loosely based on the unfilmed script: 'A Day In A Life Of A Cop.'

Disclaim: Non profit dreaming. I do not own the rights to Starsky and Hutch.

Thank you Strut...Thank you, my friend, for spending time with me -- and helping me along with this story!

Dedicated to my friend Pooh -- happiest of days!

Hutch's eyes were closed as he enjoyed the stream of hot water splashing over his tired body, and refreshing his soul. The water here in the police locker room was super hot. He needed that right now. It'd been a long all-niter on the streets of Bay City and although it was one in the morning and the locker room showers weren't the same as home -- he was happy to get rid of the grime.

He'd thought back to how he'd been living in Starsky's car, listening to his partner's trivia for hours. Obscure information like: Rembrandt had died broke. Red is the most commonly colored vehicle involved in accidents each year. 80 of animals on the planet are insects. Until 1870 baseball was played without the use of gloves. People sneeze at about 90 miles per hours. There were more plastic lawn flamingos in the US. than real ones and 52 of Americans drank coffee.

Staring dutifully out the Torino's window, Hutch guessed that tonight he wasn't one of those 52, as he never took a sip from his stale cup of coffee. Nor did he partake in the poisonous bag of fried grape jelly-filled donuts his partner had sitting on the seat between them. They'd been trailing an ex-cop and his ex-wife, who'd decided to become the next Bonnie and Clyde. Knocking off banks and leaving dead people in their wake. Hutch couldn't help but feel it was one of the top ten worst jobs they'd ever been assigned.

Hutch pulled himself from the recent memory, opening his eyes to watch the water swirl down the shower drain. He only wished the dirt they saw out on the street could disappear just as easily.

There were a lot of worsts in the world.

Like: thieves, serial killers and rapist. Bad men on an evil journey -- dragging you to the dark-side of life.

But there were a lot of bests in this world too

Like: music and love -- laughing until it hurt. Good men, best friends willing to take the hero's journey with you -- walking beside you into the dark.

There was no finer moment -- that moment you thought would never come, the moment when you finally got it, broke the case and caught the bad guys. That moment when you looked into the eyes of your partner, and knew everything would be okay.

But right now the best things were the simple things. A simple hot shower, and knowing your best friend would be there with a joke or a smile to ease your troubled mind. Right now that was the best stuff in the world! Right now that was what Hutch needed most, as it had been a long tiring week.

Pressing his hands against the tiled wall, Hutch forgot about everything else, as his chin touched his chest while the water bounced off his head.

"Hey, Starsk, hand me your shampoo -- I'm out," Hutch said, reaching a hand upward and wiggling his fingers nabbing the bottle that was slipped over the shower wall. "Thanks."

"Aren't you done yet, Hutch? Come on. I'm starving."

"Of course you are."

"Besides, you're going to turn into a pumpkin if you stay in there much longer," Starsky complained.

"Prune," Hutch corrected.

"Pumpkin, prune -- come on."

Hutch turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, steam rising off his body and crocodile-sized drops dripping to the tiles. He nabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Hutch flashed Starsky a big cheesy grin as he causally strolled past his partner, who was dressed in only a soggy white bath towel, and staring at himself in the mirror.

"Good morning, buddy."

"Mornin'." Starsky nodded and smiled back.

"Mornin, Silverman," Hutch said as he passed by the older patrolman who'd just gotten out of the shower and had sat down on the bench.

"Mornin, Hutch," Silverman said, now digging through his duffle bag.

George Silverman was one of the oldest patrolmen on the force. He was tall, thin, and graying with light brown puppy dog eyes. Hutch liked the man. He was an excellent cop and a good husband, and the man who introduced him to the big brother program.

"How's it going, Silverman?" Hutch asked as stepped past the older patrolman to get to his locker.

"Just dandy, Hutch," Silverman said, still rummaging through his bag.

"Hutch," Starsky said. "You know last night I was reading everyone's tongue print is different. Just like fingerprints. Why do you suppose we don't dust for tongue prints?" Starsky asked as he shoved his toothbrush into his mouth and started to vigorously scrub up and down --back and forth.

"I don't have a clue, Starsk." Hutch shrugged as he shut his locker and sat on the bench next to Silverman.

"That's my point, Hutch," Starsky gargled, spit and rinsed. "When we don't have a clue and a thumbprint doesn't' show up -- why wouldn't we try to get a tongue print?"

Hutch yawned and rolled his eyes at his partner. "Starsk, it's too early for this. All I'm thinking about is heading home to crash."

"What? I thought we'd go get some dinner." Starsky bounced from one foot to the other.

Hutch rubbed his eyes." Not hungry. Besides, breakfast is in a few hours," he said pulling a shirt over his head.

"How's your wife, Helen?" Hutch turned to ask Silverman trying to ignore his over active partner.

"It's Rose," Silverman politely corrected, and she's doing fine, thanks."

"Hey, Silver," Starsky piped in. "Did you know 90 percent of all people put their left sock on first?"

What?" Silverman looked to see that in fact he was about to put his left sock on first.

"Does he always -- ahh -- ahh --" Silverman suppressed a sneeze. "Does he always babble like that?" he asked Hutch.

"You have no idea," Hutch drawled.

"You know," Starsky hurriedly said. "If you sneeze too hard you can break a rib, and if you hold back one you can rupture a blood vessel in your head or neck and die?"

"Are you serious?" Silverman shuddered, and twitched his nose.

"You'll have to excuse my partner -- he's the master of useless information."

"Hey, it's not useless. And trivia is a hobby of mine. I have the right to--"

"Remain silent," Hutch butted in.

"Least I'm not on the health food bandwagon -- like Blondie there," Starsky said, as he stared at his reflection and combed his hair. "A couple hot tamales and a hot pickle would do you some good, Hutch. Put a fire in your step and --"

"And in my gut, Starsky."

"Hutch, you're such a hypocrite. If you were truly into the health-nut phase you'd be showering with bottled water -- not that polluted chlorine based stuff they shoot out at you."

"Tap water's fine, Starsk," Hutch said, nabbing another towel and drying his hair vigorously.

"Don't mind Starsky, Silver. He's just grumpy because he hasn't had a shower since last week." Hutch gave a disgusted snort, as he shucked into his corduroys.

"Blow me, Hutchinson. You know I got the plumber coming over tomorrow. My drain is clogged"

"Not as much as your brain," Hutch whispered in Silverman's ear.

"What's that?" Starsky asked.

"Nothing, Starsk. I was just telling Silver here next time you might have to shower in the rain."

Hutch and Silverman shared a laugh.

"Funny guys," Starsky muttered, as he moved toward his locker and reached in and pulled out a pair of faded Levis, a red tee shirt, a leather belt, a pair of socks, and laid them on the bench beside him.

"Hey, where the hell are my shoes?" Starsky asked, as he dug around in the bottom of his locker.

Hutch snickered and winked at Silverman as he pulled a blue tee shirt down over his head and bent to shove his feet in his shoes.

"Hey! I saw that, Hutch."

"Saw what?"

"Saw you wink."

"What wink?"

"Where are my shoes?" Starsky demanded. 

"You mean the stinky old blue ones with the white stripe?"

"Adidas, Hutch. They're Adidas."

"Starsk -- I hate to be the one to tell you this -- but I think they walked off."

"Huh?"

"They're on stink."

"What'd you mean?"

"I mean strike, Starsky."

Hutch knew the good-natured jokes he and Starsky played on one another was as much a part of their friendship, as was their deep seeded devotion and willingness to lay their lives on the line -- each for the other. They served to ease the tension and stress they so often felt out on the street.

Hutch cracked a smile as he pointed toward the cieling. All three men looked upward at a pair of blue shoes, laced together and strung over a water pipe.

"Damn it, Hutch." Starsky let his towel drop to the floor. "Not again," he muttered as he walked butt naked toward the cleaning closet and brought out a stepstool.

"Just getting you back, Starsk for last week when you swapped Lemon Heads for my vitamins.

"What is this? High school gym?" Silverman smiled.

"Yep, and the dodge balls in my court now," Starsky laughed.

"You guys take that act wherever you go?" Silver shook his head and laughed.

"For the last seven years -- right partner?" Hutch playfully snapped a towel across Starsky's bare behind, as he climbed the stepstool.

"Ouch," Starsky yelped just as he snagged his shoes from the pipe. "Seven glorious years."

"You know they have programs to help guys like you two," Silverman couldn't stop laughing.

The sweaty locker room behind them now, Hutch listened to nothing but the roar of the wind as it zipped past his ear. The lights of the city seemly floated by and the exhaust and pollutants of the day appeared to be blown away by the approaching dawn.Hutch continued to gaze out the Torino's window. He took in a breath, and for a moment the grime and filth of the inner city was hidden behind the soft blanket of night, and everything looked at peace. Not a car on the road, not a soul in sight, no killing, no screaming, no nothing. Nothing except the fact he noted his partner was clipping along at too fast a speed.

Hutch turned away from the open window and glanced at Starsky's speedometer. "Hey, partner," Hutch gently called out.

"Wha?" Starsky looked up from his steady gaze on the road.

"You better slow her down, something tells me the cops in this area don't like it when they clock you going twenty-five miles over the speed limit," Hutch cracked.

Starsky looked down at his gage and eased off the gas. "Just want to get home," Starsky said, sounding tired. "I'm beat."

"Now your beat? Thought you were hungry?"

"That too," Starsky said, glancing at Hutch with a smile on his face. "I got leftover pizza, Hutch, want to come in and --"

Suddenly there was a loud thump as something hit the windshield, cracking the glass. "What the hell!" Starsky yelled, quickly pulling over to the side of the road. Leaning forward over the steering wheel, Starsky watched the crack in the glass as it spider webbed. "Shit!" he smacked his balled fist to the steering wheel in aggravation. "Must have been a rock kicked up by my tire."

Hutch glanced around the area feeling something was not right.

"Guess I'll be making a trip to Merle's shop tomorrow," Starsky sighed heavily.

Hutch turned to Starsky and said, "Yeah well -- Ouch!" Hutch felt a sting to the side of his temple.

"Get out of here, pigs!" Came the sound of young men's laughter, as a loud banging sound reverberated through the car.

"What the --" Starsky looked out the cracked windshield.

"There," Hutch pointed a finger toward a lamppost where four teens dressed in white tee shirts and torn denim, danced about excitedly, chucked rocks at the Torino.

"Shit! My car!" Starsky belted out in a homicidal tone. "Lousy punks! Who the hell --" Starsky started to open the car door, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"No, Starsk, just wait --"

"Why?" Starsky turned toward Hutch. "Those punks just broke --" Starsky gasped, and sat bolt straight. "Hutch, you're bleeding." He frantically fumbled around on the seat next to him. Finding a napkin, he raised his hand and pressed it against Hutch's right temple.

Starsky pulled the napkin away and looked relieved to see only a light bloodstain. "Son of a bitch." He dropped the napkin and reached up under his leather jacket and drew his gun. "When I get my hands on those --"

"Hey!" Hutch's hand stopped him again. "Starsky! Wait!" Still feeling something was deeply wrong, Hutch narrowed his eyes as he got a closer look at the teens. His keen eye for the element of detail made him stiffen. "Kiko!" Hutch glanced over at Starsky with shock stricken eyes. "One of those punks isn't a punk-- it's Kiko, Starsk."

"Kiko? Hutch, you sure?" Starsky leaned across Hutch to get a better look. "It's Kiko," he confirmed. "What's he doing with those morons, this late at night?" Starsky shook his head took a deep breath, and moved for his gun again.

"Get out of here, pigs! This is our turf." Next came more laughter, the boys no longer pitching rocks but showing off their middle fingers.

The teens bounced around in a carefree tribal dance, taunting and daring the two men in the car to give chase, as they jumped upon their skateboards and sped away into the night. Hutch's heart sank like a shiny new penny falling silently through the dark waters of an old wishing well. He had made a wish to become a big brother. To change someone's life for the better and now that wish seemed to have vanished.

Starsky once again moved to exit the car, gun still in hand.

"Starsky, no. It's Kiko. Lose the gun," Hutch pleaded as he pulled the big brother card. "Okay?"

"Hutch, we don't know who he's with. They may be just kids with rocks, but they can be just as dangerous as a thief with a gun, partner."

"Starsky, he's my little brother," Hutch protested again.

"Blondie, this ain't no nursery rhyme. Didn't your mother ever tell you Humpty Dumpy didn't fall -- Hutch, he was pushed." Starsky raised a brow. "Kiko's been pushed. He's hanging with a gang out on the streets after curfew, tossing rocks, challenging authority, smashing your partner's windshield, and what about your head? Who do you think told those kids we were cops? Who knows what else they might be into? I'm sorry, partner."

"Okay. Okay, look." Hutch tried to calm his beating heart that wanted to bust out from behind his ribcage. "They headed toward Waterloo. It dead ends into an alley. We can corner them. I gotta get to him, talk to him, Starsky. His mother told me last week something wasn't right. But this." Hutch waved a hand at the cracked glass. "I should have done something sooner. Hutch said, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling guilt charge through him.

"Okay, but we take our guns, Hutch."

"Safety on." Hutch kept his voice dead flat.

"Safety on," Starsky agreed, putting the car in gear and, swerving away from the curb.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Starsky drove slowly down the road, while Hutch watched out the window. Playing over and over in his mind the past few months. When had Kiko joined up with this gang? Why didn't he see the signs? Deep in thought he watched the scenery slowly roll by. Stores, mailboxes, fire hydrants, and trees all seemed to blend into the gathering darkness as he feverishly kept his eyes peeled for only one thing -- a young impressionable boy whom Hutch held close to his heart.

Starsky turned down Waterloo his car picking up a tenth of its earlier speed. "Hutch." A hand reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "Let's pack it in for tonight. They're long gone --"

"Starsky!" Hutch's gaze zeroed in on the flicker of ghostly white as it disappeared down an alley. He pounded his fist on the dash. "Stop the car! There they go!"

"Hutch." Starsky slowed. "Hang on. I --"

Hutch shoved the car door open before the Torino could even come to a complete stop. He pulled out his gun, and shot to his feet racing down the sidewalk, leaving the passenger door wide open.

"Down the alley," he yelled over his shoulder.

"Hutch! Wait!" He heard Starsky, but he couldn't wait, he had to protect Kiko, get him away from those dangerous gang members.

Hutch didn't slow as he beat a hasty retreat away from his backup and entered the alleyway that was edged in shadows. Everything was utterly still and dark as he looked down into the sea of black and swallowed the lump in his throat. The relaxed, refreshed feeling he had received from his locker room shower was all but gone. The prickling of heat brought perspiration beading on his back, and soaking his clean shirt.

They were kids. Just kids, but his partner was right. What they were doing was sending them into a whole new league. And what about Kiko? He was down there in that garbage infested alley. The thought filled Hutch with a fusion of fear and guilt. Where had he gone wrong with the boy? What had made Kiko join up with this gang? Hadn't he spent so much of his free time with him? Teaching. Talking. Mentoring. Keeping him on the right track.

Hutch could sense danger in the air, but he couldn't afford to make the mistake of underestimating the troubled youths, as he kept the saftey off.

"Kiko!" Keeping a soft finger-tip touch on the trigger out of pure instinct, Hutch called again, "Kiko, answer me." The fear and guilt firing through his system made his knees shake, but as Hutch was expecting -- he got no answer, not a sound. "Police! Come out! Hands in the air!" He changed tactics.

Hutch looked to his left where a dumpster sat overflowing with garbage. He looked to his right -- nothing but a blank wall. He dared to glance straight ahead, beyond the pitch black to the heart of the alley. Silently he stood there in the eerie flickering shadows, the cold ground seeping up his legs and finding its way into his heart.

Hearing the scampering of feet followed by the clattering and banging of metal. Hutch moved quickly yet cautiously down the center of the alley.

"Kiko," he called out, his voice echoing off the walls. "It's Hutch, I want you to--" He stopped.

Seeing a rickety fire escape ladder, trembling from the weight that was upon it. Looking up he caught a flash of white that had just disappeared over the edge of the roof. Holstering his gun, Hutch jumped the few feet to grasp at the bottom rung and pulled himself up. Hand over hand, he quickly made his way up the ladder, hauled himself over the waist- high ledge, and stepped out onto the pebble matted roof top.

"Damn it, Kiko," he muttered as he glanced around the flat roof , and drew his weapon once more.

The half-moon illuminating the area made the rooftop look as if it were lit by candles -- the flickering light distorting everything. A cool breeze wafted over him and he shivered, it was creepier up here than in the alleyway below.

Hutch knew he should wait for Starsky, but worry propelled him onward. He stalked cautiously over the pebbled roof, sidestepping around several tangled lawn chairs, a small inflatable pool, several air ducts, television antennas, and a spinning weather vein. Hearing laughter and a door banging shut on the opposite side of the roof, Hutch took off at a dead sprint. He had only gone a few feet when he gave a yelp of pain as a heavy blow to his left ankle swept him off balance. Hutch fell to the ground, the jolt sending his gun scattering inches away.

Before Hutch could recover and get to his feet -- he froze as he spotted the familiar form of his little brother.

"Kiko!"

Behind Kiko stood a older boy with greasy unkept hair, a cigarette hanging from his smirking mouth, and a thick metal pipe in his hand. What the kid must have lacked in smarts -- Hutch figured he made up for in confidence.

"Drop the pipe," Hutch demanded.

"Screw you, cop," the greasy haired teen hissed around his cigarette.

Hutch didn't try to stand or reach for his gun -- he wouldn't risk Kiko's life that way. Hutch kept his posture non-threatening and his voice soft. "Look, kid, I don't suppose there's a chance I can talk some sense into you? Get you to put down that pipe?"

"Over your dead body, pig!"

"That's what I was afraid of," Hutch mumbled as he turned toward Kiko. "You too, Kiko? You want to hurt me, too?" Kiko shuffled his feet nervously and looked away. "They got to you didn't they?" Hutch said, sadly.

"Yeah, pig, we got to him and we're going to make sure he forgets all about you!" The older boy raised the pipe high over his head.. "Gonna send you to donut heaven."

"No! Demon, don't!" Kiko took one step forward, stopping the older boy from taking another swing. "Hutch, it's not like that. I just wanted -- " Kiko stopped and looked away again. "You won't understand."

Hutch nodded his head. "I understand," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Unfortunately -- more than you know. How old are you, anyway?" Hutch directed the question toward Demon.

"Old enough to know I don't trust cops!" Demon yelled. "Let me show you how it's done!" he said to Kiko, shoving the younger boy aside and raising the pipe threateningly once more.

"Don't do it!" Hutch growled, as his gaze shifted toward his gun, but still he refused to reach for it. No way was he going to shoot a kid.

"What you going to do? Call your pig friends?"

"Oink, oink!" Starsky squealed, aiming his gun skyward and pulling the trigger, sending a warning shot into the night sky. "Drop it!" he yelled with authority as he kept the muzzle of his berretta pointed up.

Startled, Demon dropped the pipe and nabbed Kiko by the shirt collar. "Let's split," he yelled as he dragged the younger boy with him into the shadows.

Hutch stared after them, shakily wiping the sweat off his forehead with his shirt sleeve.

"Hutch!" Starsky's timbre was high pitched as he quickly crossed the roof "Damn you, why'd you run off like that?" He quickly grabbed Hutch's gun and handed it back to him. "What happened?" he asked his tone sounding half angry, half releived.

"Kid was hiding behind that air duct, took a swipe at my ankle." Hutch grunted and pointed at the pipe on the ground.

"Kiko did this?" Starsky asked in shock, still hovering protectively above Hutch searching the area.

"Not that kid," Hutch corrected as he holstered his weapon. "The other kid. Demon."

"Huh?" Starsky raised a questioning brow.

"Kiko's sidekick," Hutch said, his voice thick with anger.

"Oh. Your ankle okay?" Starsky started to crouch down, but Hutch stopped him raising both hands.

"Fine. Just a bruise. You going to help me up or what?"

"Let's go," Starsky said, grabbing hold of Hutch's hands and tugging him to his feet.

Starsky snaked an arm around Hutch's waist. "Did it ever occur to you to wait for your partner? Partner?"

"You're mad?" Hutch stumbled, and Starsky held him tighter.

"No I'm not."

"So, it was bad strategy?" Hutch asked in a lighthearted tone, knowing he was wrong.

"Hutch, you shouldn't have taken off like that. What am I supposed to do with you?"

"You'll think of something, Starsk."

"That kid could have killed you."

"His name is Demon," Hutch reminded.

"Wonder what his real name is?"

"I forgot to ask," Hutch said irritably. "Ugh." He struggled the last few steps to the edge of the roof. "Guess my ankle hurts worse than I thought," he said, bracing a hand on the ledge.

"Do we need a hospital?" Starsky lanced Hutch with a somber look.

"I don't know." Hutch pounded a balled fist to the ledge. "Starsky!" He yelled in fierce anger, as his voice echoed through the alley below. "He's running with a gang! Why?" Hutch forcefully pushed off from the wall. "Ahh." He stumbled from the pain in his ankle, ending up in Starsky's arms.

"Take it easy there, buddy." Starsky said, looking long and hard into Hutch's eyes. "We'll take care of it. Right now I want you to sit. Let me check this out." Without another word said Starsky eased Hutch down leaning him up against the wall.

"It's nothing. " Hutch cringed.

Starsky rolled up Hutch's pant leg, and caught his breath. "Damn," he cursed. "Hutch, I don't think purple swelling the size of a grapefruit is nothing, pal," Starsky said in a sympathetic tone, as he untied Hutch's shoelace. "You're not going to make it down from here on your own, Blondie."

"Thanks for the hot tip, partner!" Hutch's frustration was more than he could bear, causing him to shout.

"Hey, I'm not the enemy."

"Sorry." Hutch lowered his voice to a whisper, and closed his eyes in anguish. "I just -- just wanted the right things for Kiko --" Hutch opened his eyes, a pained expression on his face. "Starsky, it's why I became a big brother in the first place."

"I know, pal. You've done a lot for Kiko," Starsky said, slowly and gently slipping Hutch's shoe off.

"It wasn't enough." Hutch winced.

"Buddy, we won't let Kiko's face end up on a wanted poster. I promise you, that," Starsky softly said, handing Hutch his shoe.

"Yeah," Hutch whispered miserably.

"Be right back, pal." Starsky patted Hutch's thigh, and stood.

"I'll be waiting." Hutch let his chin drop to his chest.

Starsky climbed over the edge of the wall. "Hutch." He paused. "You know this is considered a police action now, right?"

Hutch tipped his face upward and frowned. "Yep," he muttered, unhappily.

Hutch knew if he didn't press charges both kids would get off scott free. On the other side of damned -- if he pressed charges it would also be against Kiko, as he was an accomplice.

"We'll find Kiko, and help him, Hutch. Can't be too many kids on the street nicknamed Demon." Starsky lingered a moment longer, then headed down the ladder.

"Damn it, Kiko!" Hutch yelled. "How am I going to keep you out of Juvie, now?"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The atmosphere in the room was one of tension and weariness.

Hutch sat quietly at the kitchen table looking tired and scruffy as he stared down at the white plaster cast that now covered his foot and a third of his calf. He'd called Kiko's mother and she had -- half sadly -- half hysterically reported her son had not come home.

"How you holding up, buddy?" Starsky asked as he set a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup down in front of Hutch.

"I'm tired, woried and this cast itches." Hutch stared down at the bowl. It smelled good, but eating was the furthest thing from his mind. Instead, his guilt and worry for Kiko was eating him up inside. "I should be out there looking for Kiko. Other than that Starsky, I'm fine." Hutch picked up a spoon and glumly stirred the chunks of carrots and celery around the hot broth.

"Hutch." Starsky sat down across from him. "You've done everything you could do for Kiko -- sometimes they just get away," he said taking a sip from his coffee mug.

"He's not a fish -- Starsky!" Hutch snapped and dropped his spoon into the bowl. The action splashing hot soup onto his shirt. "Damn it!"

Starsky set his mug down and got up. "Look," he said, coming over with a towel and wiping at the spot on Hutch's shirt. "I know he's not a fish, dummy -- I'm only saying --

"Give up on him?" Hutch said sadly.

"No buddy." Starsky exchanged the towel for Hutch's soup spoon and handed it to him. "Bait your hook and recast. Kiko needs you now more than ever. You think you're screwing up his life? Don't you?"

"I've seen plenty of adults screw up a kids life, Starsk and -"

"And you're not one of those adults, Hutch!" Starsky said with conviction.

"What about Demon?" Hutch questioned as he went back to stirring his soup.

"Demon!" Starsky said in shock. "Hutch, the kid tried to take you a few inches shorter tonight. He's bad news."

"I don't know Starsky. I have a strange feeling despite the kid's anger and appearance he could use a big brother too. What he's doing now is the only way he's learned to get by. Under more favorable circumstances, I bet he would be a new kid." Hutch raised his spoon and took a sip.

"That's a noble theory Hutch, but only a theory."

"Nothing noble about it Starsk. I'm just saying everyone deserves a second chance." Hutch sipped more of his soup.

"Look at you." Starsky waved a hand toward Hutch's crutches leaning against a nearby wall. "What is it, with you, Hutch? That whole crazy -- love is pain thing?"

"Something like that," Hutch said, feeling his heart sinkingand something inside snapping. "Just don't want anything bad to happen to Kiko or Demon."

"Hey, partner." Starsky's gaze met Hutch's. "I don't want anything bad to happen to Kiko either. And I know he feels the same for you, pal."

Hutch shook his head. "I don't know anymore."

"Well, I do. And Tomorrow --"

"Starsky! Tomorrow will be too damn late!" Hutch slammed his spoon to the table.

Rising on one shaky leg Hutch peered over at the wall where his crutches were. He swore he could feel the jagged break in his ankle, but sucked in a breath and forced himself not to let out a whimper. He took two hobbling steps toward the wall.

"Hutch, you have to take a break and rest right now." Starsky made his way next to his friend and clutched at his shoulder. "We'll go find him. Together. But not right --"

"Now!" Hutch jerked away and stumbled. "My ankle." The taller man cringed, as his breathing became labored and his pulse quickened. "Now, Starsky! I can't wait around until morning!" He pulled away again. "Uggh," he moaned. Hutch took a few more steps and fumbled for his crutches, instead he slipped and his shoulder hit the wall. "Humph," he grunted.

"Time out, Hutch." Starsky warped an arm around his waist to hold him up. "Just listen to me and take it easy." Starsky pulled Hutch close. "You can't go charging off like a one legged rhino in heat."

"Fine! I'll go charging off like a one legged zebra in heat. That sound better? Not going to let a lousy broken ankle sideline me."

"I have one word for you, babe," Starsky sighed. "Compromise. You sleep five hours then we go looking for Kiko. Together!"

"Two hours," Hutch shot back.

"Four."

"Three." Hutch searched his friend's eyes for a hint of acceptance.

"Six, Hutch -- or I'm going to cuff us together and flush the key and you can explain to Dobey why. Okay?"

"I think I'm losing here."

"Blondie, you're not losing you're just second."

"Really don't have much choice -- do I?" Hutch asked, but got no answer. "Four hours, Starsk."

"Deal. You head to bed, and I'll get your pain reliever."

Dejectedly, Hutch hobbled to the bed and sat down. He looked out the window at the blackness, as he rubbed the crick at the base of his neck. He watched as dark streaks of rainwater slipped down the window pane. Flashes of lightning filled the room and Hutch could feel the thunder rumble through his soul. He wanted to be out looking for Kiko, but Starsky was as mule-headed as he was, and given all that had happened four hours of sleep sounded pretty good right now. He was kidding himself if he thought he could do Kiko or Demon any good in the shape he was in at the moment. Even though the night was cool, he felt hot, sweaty, and dirty -- his face scruffy. Hutch closed his eyes, as his stomach fluttered with nausea, while sharp pains alternated between his ankle, and then his head.

"Hey, you okay?"

Startled, Hutch's eyes popped open. Starsky stood right in front of him, eyebrows drawn together, holding out a glass of water and two white pills in his hands.

"Nothing terrible- just have a headache, Starsk."

Hutch took the offered pills and water, and swallowed hard. "Is it me or is the room spinning?" Hutch asked, inching further onto the bed and sagging against the pillows.

"It's you," Starskychuckled softly. "Let's get you comfortable." He maneuvered the pillows behind Hutch.

"Uhhg," Hutch gritted his teeth against the throbbing ache in his ankle. "Can't seem to get comfortable," he said, taking a breath before he tried again to reposition himself.

"Hurts, huh?"

"Only when I move, Starsky."

"So don't move."

Hutch rolled his eyes. "Glad we have that straight."

"Want me to tell you a bedtime story?" Starsky winked.

"Oh, sure, I think I'll pass on the morbid stories there, buddy."

"What'd you mean? You don't like my stories?"

"Starsk." Hutch exhaled loudly and shifted on the bed. "If the rest of your stories are like the one about Humpty-Dumpty, and how he was murdered -- "

"You didn't like that one? I got a great story about Little Bo Peep and how she is the real criminal mastermind behind the disappearance of her sheep."

Starsky's expression was so serious Hutch had to crack a smile. "Thanks, buddy."

"For what?" Starsky lay a hand to his friend's shoulder.

"You know--" Hutch paused. "Just thanks." He nodded slowly.

Starsky gently squeezed Hutch's shoulder. "Get some rest. I'll take the couch," he said and turned on his heels.

"S-Starsk," Hutch whispered.

"Yeah," Starsky stopped in the doorway.

Hutch gave a hard-edged smile. "Four hours, that's it. Then you wake me."

Starsky nodded his agreement and flicked out the light.

One hour had passed and Hutch still lay in the dark, watching the storm outside stop just as fast as it had come. The pills he'd taken just weren't cutting it -- his ankle still throbbed, and he couldn't sleep. He'd tried counting sheep, zebras, rhinos anything he could think of. He shifted this way and that, his bed creaking, as a few quiet moans left his lips. He stopped and closed his eyes only briefly, hoping Starsky didn't hear. He could feel the light breeze flowing in through the slightly cracked bedroom window. Hutch opened his eyes -- all he could do was watch the shadowy curtains dance to and fro, as his recent memories of Kiko and the gang of delinquents he'd obviously joined up with -- dogged him.

Hutch was just going to try getting up to go get a glass of warm milk -- when a soft voice called to him through the darkness.

"Can't sleep, huh?"

"Nope." Hutch tried to ease himself higher onto the pillows. "Feel old and tired."

"Not old enough to start collecting your pension, buddy. You need to get some sleep. We got work to do tomorrow." Starsky padded over to the side of the bed and bent down. "Brought you a glass of warm milk." He placed a hand behind Hutch's shoulder. "Here we go," he said, helping Hutch up and handing him the glass.

"You're a mind reader." Hutch nodded graciously and took a few sipsas he watched Starsky move toward the opposite side of the bed.

"Make room, we can feel old and tired together," Starsky said as he slowly and carefully lowered himself next to Hutch.

"You couldn't sleep, either?" Hutch took another sip of milk.

"Nope -- counting zebras and rhinos wasn't working," Starsky said, staring up at the ceiling.

"You tried that too?" Hutch chuckled lightly.

"Of course." Starsky turned his head to the side and smiled. "Finish your milk, and go to sleep," he said, closing his eyes.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Starsky stood with arms crossed as he looked out the apartment window. Hutch struggled through the bedroom, and stumbled as his body feigned speed. He had only one thing on his mind. Finding Kiko and Demon.

"What are you doing?" Hutch asked, not even interested in the usual cup of coffee. "Let's get going, Starsky." He grabbed his car keys off the coffee table, and headed for the door, very conscious he was acting like a dog straining at the leash.

Hutch fumbled to keep his crutches secured under his armpits as he twisted the knob and pushed open the front door, when he noted Starsky hadn't budged from his roost by the window. "Hey." Hutch turned, and squinted his eyes against the sting in his ankle. "Come on!" he urged. It had been a long four hours of restless dreaming, and gut gnawing worry. Hutch just needed to get out on the streets and find his little brother.

Starsky let his arms fall to his side, and quickly followed Hutch out the door. "Move it, Starsky," Hutch said, noting his friend moving like he was walking through quicksand. Hutch wobbled as he adjusted the crutches under his armpits, while the steps creaked and moaned under his weight. "I got a broken ankle and I'm moving faster than you." Hutch added in agitation.

"Slow down, before you break the other one." Starsky complained in return as he grabbed a handful of Hutch's shirt collar to steady him. "'Em? Hutch? I got good news, and I got bad news; which do you want first?

Hutch glanced over his shoulder and frowned. "What is it? Kiko?"

"It's about your wheels. Good or bad? Which do you want?" Starsky asked again.

Hutch sighed, "The bad."

"Someone spray painted your car."

"What?" Hutch paused only a moment before he started to hobble faster down the stairwell.

"Hutch, slow down," Starsky yelled, as he pulled back on the shirt collar.

Exiting the building, Hutch gazed upon his car. The windshield was shattered and black spray paint still fresh and wet from the night rain dripped and crisscrossed over every inch of the brown car. But, the most disturbing part of the artwork was scrawled across the back bumper -- the words **' DIE PIG'** written in blood red completely covering Hutch's 'cops need love too' bumper sticker.

"Oh, man, Starsk," Hutch sighed. "What the hell could the good news be?"

"Well, for one --" Starsky stepped up next to Hutch their shoulders just barely touching.

"You got a new paint job,"Starsky stated a little nervously.

"And for two?" Hutch asked never diverting his attention from the damaged vehicle.

"They covered up all the dents."Starsky gave a small laugh.

"Starsky." Hutch glared at him. "That's not funny."

"I know it's not funny, Hutch. But it's not the worst thing that could happen."

"Nope." Hutch agreed. "Not the worst thing."

Hutch stood silent in his reverie of 'worst things' for a moment.

"Starsk," Hutch broke his daydreams. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Demon and his bunch?"

Hutch's detectives senses kicked. "And his bunch includes, Kiko," Hutch said shaking his head sadly. "He would have had to tell them where I lived."

"Maybe it wasn't them." Starsky tried to brighten the moment.

"Maybe." Hutch hobbled over to lean against his car. "But I have a bad feeling." He glanced down, to see his haggard reflection in a rain puddle. "Starsky, what's that?" Hutch pointed with the tip of his crutch.

Starsky bent down and picked up what Hutch had pointed at. "ID." Starsky flipped it over, shook off the water and examined it closer. "Desmond Jones." He spun the card around for Hutch to see the picture.

"Demon!" Hutch identified.

Starsky eyed the card again. "This is a fake ID. Hutch, and not a very good one. No way that kid is twenty one. Let's go to the station and see if we can't pull up a record on this kid."

Hutch ignored the ache in his ankle, and the hum of the Torino's engine as it cruised up and down the streets of Bay City. He sat quietly in the passenger seat,flipping through the file of one Desmond Jones, that they'd gotten from Metro R.I. There was no phone number or current address, and he sighed at that.

"How old is he?" Starsky asked.

"Today's his birthday." Hutch raised his brow in surprise at what he was reading."Fifteen. Same age as Kiko," he said glancing up only briefly, then flipping through the file again. "Kid didn't have the luxury of a mom. His dad was a drunk, and they lived out of seedy motel rooms. His dad was shot and killed by police when he wouldn't surrender his weapon after trying to rob a liquor store. Desmond spent two months on the streets alone before Child Services caught up to him. He's been in four different foster homes."

Hutch raised his eyes to scan the street, seeing only a store clerk sweeping his doorway and a dog lifting his leg to pee on a telephone pole he went back to the file. "He's been arrested for vandalism and shoplifting. Was caught red-handed smashing in a deli stores window and he almost made off with a bag full of Twinkies and a six pack of beer."

"And you think I don't eat right?" Starsky lightly joked.

Hutch rolled his eyes, and continued, "Three months ago, he was smoking cannabis in his fourth foster home when he --"

"Cannabis?" Starsky interrupted.

"Marijuana, Starsky." Hutch looked up to meet his partner's eyes.

"I know what it is, Hutch," Starsky said, slowing down so a pedestrian could cross the street. "Just haven't' heard it called that in a long time's all."

Hutch went back to reading the file, feeling a hole open in his gut and in his heart for this kid. "He ended up catching his foster parent'sgarage on fire with the stuff, and he hasn't been seen until last night when --"

"When he lobbed a rock at my car, clunked you in the head and smashed your ankle," Starsky said in an angry tone."

"Starsk." Hutch closed the file, and wondered how many times other officers and social workers had done the same thing. Closed the file and never opened it again. "Kid's life hasn't exactly been a crystal bowl heaped full of cherries."

"Hutch, there's no denying Demon --"

"Desmond."

"Hutch, there is no denying, Desmond has had a troubled life but --"

"But, I think I can--"

"Help him?" Starsky broke in,his tone sarcastic.

"Starsky! I know I can talk some sense into Kiko -- maybe I can reason with Desmond too."

"Hutch, you can't reason with crazy. That tattooed thug was going to smash your brains out your ears."

"Starsky, they're kids -- not hardened criminals. "

"Yet, Hutch. They're not hardened criminals -- yet."

"I want to help him."

Starsky shot Hutch a serious look, and said, "That kid ain't no delicate flower, partner. Today, a metal pipe and a rock. Tomorrow a gun full of lead." Starsky pushed his point further. "And you Hutch -- you and your broken ankle --" he waved a hand toward the cast. "Should be home in bed!"

"I'm not going home. Not until I find Kiko."

"Hutch," Starsky ground out. "You're no guitar strumming, crusading, big brother, leaping rooftops-in-a-single-bound.And Kiko's no random victim. He joined that gang of his own free will.

You need to go home and rest." He gently suggested.

Hutch grunted, "Starsk, I love your caring." He softly nudged his friend with an elbow to his side. "But, I'm not going to let the last rose petal fall from the stem." Hutch reached over and gripped Starsky's shoulder and gave a squeeze.

Starsky sighed deeply, "You should have been a poet, Hutch -- " he paused, a crooked smile coming to his lips. "Could call yourself Dirty Harriet," Starsky gave Hutch a wink, then seriously said, "Will work this out, okay, partner?"

"Okay -- funny guy." Hutch gave the shoulder under his hand one more squeeze before letting go, and going back to looking out the window.

They road in silence, and time slowed as Hutch watched side streets, parks, and beach fronts whiz past. He was constantly aware of the weight of his cast. The steady ache made it difficult to concentrate, and it took everything he had to keep focused. Every now and again his ankle would cramp and twitch spasmodically. It was a cool day, but he could feel the back of his shirt, drenched with sweat as it stuck to the seat. Hutch remained quiet, not willing to offer his discomfort to his partner. All there was to do was think and Hutch couldn't' stop thinking about Desmond.

How many people had tried to help the kid and closed the file on him instead? What dark paths had he been forced to walk alone? How could a boy be so full of hatred? Hutch shook his head, thinking about the words 'die pig' and the scene on the rooftop. Desmond, holding that pipe about to beat his brains in. The troubled teen had looked capable of being a cold blooded killer. Hutch figured the kid was out on the streets alone for so long -- he had become a sponge -- soaking up all the badness of the world. But now, thinking back, when Hutch had looked into the boy's eyes he could see all the questions, the loneliness, the pain, and the cry for help

Hutch knew he was no super-hero, but he had become a cop to better the lives of the people around him. He had taken the policemen's oath into his blood and into his soul. So kids like Kiko and Desmond could have a better life. Hutch knew Desmond just needed someone to give him a chance -- to show him trust and companionship. Unfortunately he chose a gang to do that for him, instead of a good home life.

He thought about Kiko, how when they first met they had hit it off immediately and became friends. He wasn't sure what had turned Kiko's interest from him to a gang. Kiko knew Hutch couldn't be there all the time -- as an officer of the law, duty called. He thought Kiko understood that fact. Hutch knew, Demon probably had nothing better to do then be there all the time, and Kiko somehow fell for that.

Hutch glanced at his watch, all this doing nothing but driving and looking was making him nervous. He needed to do something, and all he could think to do in the confined space of the car was drum his fingers against the dashboard.

Hutch knew he had to get his little brother back on the right side of the tracks before he got too far down the wrong side. He would do everything he could to see that happened. In a strange metaphoric way the Torino bumped and banged over a set of railroad tracks, the action caused Hutch's pain to accelerate a level. It felt like someone was twisting a screwdriver through his bone. Stilling his tapping fingers and sucking in a breath, Hutch couldn't help but to let out a small moan.

Starsky glanced sideways. "How you holding up, partner?"

Hutch was concentrating so hard on breathing through the pain he barely heard the question

"Easy now," Starsky said, as he pulled the car over against the curb and put it in park. "Talk to me."

"I can't stand this, Starsk," Hutch ground out between clenched teeth.

"Pain that bad, buddy? Maybe we should --"

"No, I gotta find him."

"We will, Hutch. Trust me. We will, and it will all work out."

"I hope you're right."

"How's you ankle feeling?" Starsky changed the subject.

"Feels -- feels broken," Hutch admitted, between breaths, not able to take his gaze away from the window. "Just keep driving." Hutch waved a shaky hand.

"Aw, Hutch, you're struggling with the pain. I'm taking you home for awhile. Besides, maybe Kiko came to his senses and he's there. Huh? Come on Hutch," he implored softly.

Hutch's eyes left the window for a moment, and stared at Starsky. "Okay," he grumbled in defeat. "Okay."

"Atta boy!" Starsky slapped a hand to Hutch's back. "Come on, I know just the thing to make you feel better."

"Whatever you think," Hutch said in a monotonous voice. Starsky had just put the Torino in gear when Hutch yelled. "Starsky stop!"

"What?"

"It's my last rose petal," Hutch muttered as he pointed a finger out the passenger window at Kiko.

"Hutch! Hutch!" Kiko frantically shouted and waved his arms wildly, as he ran across the grassy field toward the Torino.

Before Hutch could open the car door Kiko was there peering into the window. He was wet, covered in mud, and completely out of breath. "Help! I need help."

"Kiko!" Hutch opened the car door, and groaned as he clumsily tried to force himself to his feet. "Are you hurt?" Hutch worriedly asked. His partner already had a steadying hand on Kiko's shoulder.

"It's Demon. He's -- he-- " Kiko choked and sobbed. "We gotta go back."

"Easy does it, Kiko," Starsky soothed. "Take a deep breath and tell us what happened."

"We were hiding out at the construction site. He likes to go there. Sit under the huge bulldozers -- and --and --" Kiko stopped talking, swallowing hard and making a gulping sound. "He said he had a stash hidden inside his secret place."

"Marijuana?" Starsky interrupted.

Kiko nodded an ashamed look on his face. "And food. The rain had stopped, and Demon said it would be safe to go get it. I didn't want to go. I told him -- I told him not to go, but he went anyway."

"Where?" Hutch gripped the boy's shoulder. "Kiko?"

"I was scared to go. I called to him. Told him to come back. He didn't answer for a long time. I kept calling. I couldn't see him and he wouldn't answer me," Kiko sobbed. "He's alone in there. In the dark."

"Kiko, easy, tell us where?" Starsky asked.

"Back there." Kiko pointed a trembling finger behind him. "At the construction site on Palm Street. In a storm drain."

"Oh, God." Hutch's eyes grew wide as he exchanged a look with Starsky. Storm drains were designed to drag water away from the sites and usually they didn't stop until they dumped into the ocean or a large catch basin. "How long ago?" Hutch growled.

"Not long. Maybe thirty minutes."

"Let's go," Starsky said, running to the driver side.

Kiko hopped in the car, and Hutch slid in as fast as he could next to him.

"Zebra Three to Central. "Starsky was already on the radio calling in backup and Rescue.

Hutch looked to the gray sky. It had stopped raining hours ago, but that didn't make him feel any better.

Starsky hung up the mike, and stomped down hard on the accelerator. "Hang on," he said as he charged off, heading the powerful car across the grassy field where Kiko had come from.

The eight cylinder engine inside the red beast spun the wheels, helping to cut through the wet grass.It clipped along, like a horse being set free out to pasture, its raw power keeping it from getting stuck in the mud like a normal machine, and bucking all three passengers about.

"It'll be okay, Kiko." Hutch put his arm around the sobbing boy's shoulder.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Note to reader:**

**Here in Chapter four I wanted to try something a little different. Reader participation. I have two versions of chapter four. I'd like you to pick which version appealed to you the most. A dreamer's experiment if you will..**

**Thank you with all that I am -- for reading along -- for all your kind support -- and for allowing me to unlock the words inside and share them with you.**

**Sunshine even in rain, Karen**

**Chapter Four: The original version**

Chapter four

The pitch of the Torino's engine had slowed as Starsky made his way over the bumpy obstacle course of the construction site.

"It's there. Right there," Kiko pointed to a sewer pipe sticking half way up out of the ground.

Starsky coasted the last few feet past a large bulldozer, several large piles of steel beams, copper wiring, and cinderblock before coming to a stop.

"Kiko stay in the car," Hutch ordered, as he popped open the glove box, and nabbed a flashlight. He opened the car door, and reached up to grab the edge of the roof to pull himself out faster.

"You're going to help him -- right, Hutch?" Kiko sounded scared and unsure.

Hutch turned toward the tearful boy. "I fully intend too." Hutch gave a big wink, and handed the boy his crutches. "It'll be okay, Kiko. You just stay put."

Hutch hobbled over to where Starsky had already squatted to peer into the manmade cave. Hutch flicked on the flashlight and stumbled slightly, as he swept its beam back and forth around the cement storm drain.

"What do you think?" Hutch asked as he bent further down to peer into the opening.

"I think it's about five feet in diameter, but gets smaller further down. It's dark and wet, and I think it stinks," Starsky said as he gagged on the horrible smell coming from the pipe. "And I think the kid could already have drown. These pipes branch off in all directions, like a featureless city of rivers and mazes. They have large catch basins-- pits, designed to collect gunk and debris. Who knows what could be down there, Hutch. Snakes. Alligators. Rats."

Hutch looked Starsky in the eye. "A real underground safari, huh?" Hutch tried for a weak smile, his own imagination running wild as it could just as easily been Kiko lost and trapped down there. "Damn fool, kid!" Hutch muttered under his breath.

He continued to shine the light into the mouth of the concrete drain, a small stream of slime green water trickled into the pipe. The opening seemed wide enough for Hutch to crawl into, but he could tell it narrowed further down -- who knew how far it went. Hutch flicked the light off, looked upward and took a deep breath.

"If it starts raining again --" Starsky left the sentence hanging.

"I know. Here," Hutch said, and handed Starsky the flashlight. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, "Desmond!" Cocking an ear he listened, but all he could hear was the echo of plopping water and his own voice bouncing off the curved walls back at him.

"Did you know a duck's quack doesn't echo?" Starsky said dryly.

"Starsky!" Hutch yelled in aggravation. He briefly looked up. The worry in Starsky's eyes was almost blinding.

Starsky replied hesitantly, "No one knows why."

Hutch knew what his partner was trying to do. For a moment he just squinted into the dark, but an ice-cold feeling made him shudder. He couldn't wait. In a twinkling his decision was made -- Hutch was out of his leather jacket and on his knees crawling into the tunnel.

"Hutch!" A firm hand planted on his shoulder and drew him back. "This isn't just a hole in the ground. It's dangerous. What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm gonna pop popcorn." Hutch rolled his eyes. "What do you think, Starsky!" Hutch tensed, painfully stating the obvious, "He could be hurt, or worse."

"Fire and Rescue is on the way. E.T.A. twelve minutes," Starsky seriously informed his friend.

"We're already here!" Hutch protested. "Kid's liable to be dead before they get set up. We gotta move now."

"We wait!"

"I'm going!" Hutch said in an audacious tone.

"Hey, slow down, partner," Starsky said gently, and reached out to tug Hutch back by the arm. "What about you're ankle?" Hutch opened his mouth to protest but Starsky beat him to the punch. "I'll go," he said as he started to shrug out of his tan jacket.

"Starsky -- It's just an ankle -- I won't be walking -- I'll be crawling." Hutch paused. "Besides you're bulkier than me. Don't need you getting stuck in there too."

"You saying I'm fat, partner?"

"Bulky."

"Muscular, Hutch."

"Bulky, and I'm go --"

"No, you're not!" Starsky cut him off.

"I have too."

"No!"

"Hey, partner." Hutch stared at Starsky for one eye-popping moment.

"This is the stupidest thing you could do." Starsky frowned, and hesitated, but finally tore his gaze from Hutch. "Here. You'll need this." He handed the flashlight to Hutch and crouched to peer once again into the tunnel.

"Thanks, buddy."

"This might help," Kiko's voice came from behind.

Starsky twisted on his heels. "Kiko, I thought we told you to wait in the --"

He stopped his rant as Kiko handed him a large coil of nylon rope. "Good thinking, kid at least someone around here has a brain." Starsky snapped his fingers, as he quickly gathered the rope and looped it around Hutch's waist. "This way if you get into troubleI can pull you out," Starsky said, tying the rope tight, then wrapping the other end arond his own body for leverage.

"What's it like in there?" Hutch turned to Kiko.

"I was only in there once before, it's straight for a little ways, then twists, and branches off left and right. I don't know which way Demon went. I didn't want to go this time. I was afraid. I should have gone with him," Kiko said in a sad tone.

"It's okay, Kiko. I'll get him out." Hutch ducked his head and started to enter the opening.

"Hutch!" Starsky had a firm hold of his arm again.

"What?" Hutch glanced back.

"It's a long rope, but not that long. If you can't reach him by the end of it -- I pull you out." Starsky gave a serious nod and eased to his feet. "One tug means you're okay. Two -- I pull you back." Starsky hesitated for a second. "See yeah around, partner," he said.

"See yeah," Hutch said in a bold and gutsy tone, as he turned and began to crawl into the wet slimy drainpipe.

TBC

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Chapter Four: The alternative version::: With special thank you to Strut for her lovely imagination!**

Chapter four

The pitch of the Torino's engine had slowed as Starsky made his way over the bumpy obstacle course of the construction site.

"It's there. Right there," Kiko pointed to a sewer pipe sticking half way up out of the ground.

Starsky coasted the last few feet past a large bulldozer, several large piles of steel beams, copper wiring, and cinderblock before coming to a stop.

"Kiko stay in the car," Hutch ordered, as he popped open the glove box, and nabbed a flashlight. He opened the car door, and reached up to grab the edge of the roof to pull himself out faster.

"You're going to help him -- right, Hutch?" Kiko sounded scared and unsure.

Hutch turned toward the tearful boy. "I fully intend too." Hutch gave a big wink, and handed the boy his crutches. "It'll be okay, Kiko. You just stay put."

Hutch hobbled over to where Starsky had already squatted to peer into the manmade cave. Hutch flicked on the flashlight and stumbled slightly, as he swept its beam back and forth around the cement storm drain.

"What do you think?" Hutch asked as he bent further down to peer into the opening.

"I think it's about five feet in diameter, but gets smaller further down. It's dark and wet, and I think it stinks," Starsky said as he gagged on the horrible smell coming from the pipe. "And I think the kid could already have drown. These pipes branch off in all directions, like a featureless city of rivers and mazes. They have large catch basins-- pits, designed to collect gunk and debris. Who knows what could be down there, Hutch. Snakes. Alligators. Rats."

Hutch looked Starsky in the eye. "A real underground safari, huh?" Hutch tried for a weak smile, his own imagination running wild as it could just as easily been Kiko lost and trapped down there. "Damn fool, kid!" Hutch muttered under his breath.

He continued to shine the light into the mouth of the concrete drain, a small stream of slime green water trickled into the pipe. The opening seemed wide enough for Hutch to crawl into, but he could tell it narrowed further down -- who knew how far it went. Hutch flicked the light off, looked upward and took a deep breath.

"If it starts raining again --" Starsky left the sentence hanging.

"I know. Here," Hutch said, and handed Starsky the flashlight. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, "Desmond!" Cocking an ear he listened, but all he could hear was the echo of plopping water and his own voice bouncing off the curved walls back at him.

"Did you know a duck's quack doesn't echo?" Starsky said dryly.

"Starsky!" Hutch yelled in aggravation. He briefly looked up. The worry in Starsky's eyes was almost blinding.

Starsky replied hesitantly, "No one knows why."

Hutch knew what his partner was trying to do. For a moment he just squinted into the dark, but an ice-cold feeling made him shudder. He couldn't wait. In a twinkling his decision was made -- Hutch was out of his leather jacket and on his knees crawling into the tunnel.

"Hutch!" Starsky dropped the flashlight to the ground, planted a firm hand to Hutch's shoulder and drew him back. "This isn't just a hole in the ground. It's dangerous. What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm gonna pop popcorn." Hutch rolled his eyes. "What do you think, Starsky!" Hutch tensed, painfully stating the obvious, "He could be hurt, or worse."

"Fire and Rescue is on the way. E.T.A. twelve minutes," Starsky seriously informed his friend.

"We're already here!" Hutch protested. "Kid's liable to be dead before they get set up. We gotta move now."

"We wait!"

"I'm going!" Hutch said in an audacious tone.

Starsky frowned, and hesitated, but finally he tore his gaze from Hutch and crouched to peer once again into the tunnel.

"This is the stupidest thing you could do."

"Thanks, buddy," Hutch drawled.

"This might help," Kiko's voice came from behind.

Starsky twisted on his heels. "Kiko, I thought we told you to wait in the --"

He stopped his rant and stood, as Kiko handed him a large coil of nylon rope. "Good thinking, kid at least someone around here has a brain."

Hutch reached out for the rope, but Starsky tore it away. "No. No. And no," he stated as he backed up a few paces, and Hutch followed.

"Starsky! Stop fooling around!" Hutch snatched the rope from Starsky's hands.

"Hey," Starsky complained. "Look, Hutch, just slow down. What about your ankle?" Hutch opened his mouth to protest but Starsky beat him to the punch. "I'll go," he said as he started to shrug out of his tan jacket.

"Starsky -- It's just an ankle -- I won't be walking -- I'll be crawling." Hutch paused. "Besides you're bulkier than me. Don't need you getting stuck in there too."

"You saying I'm fat, partner?"

"Bulky."

"Muscular, Hutch."

"Bulky, and I'm go --"

"No, you're not!" Starsky cut him off.

"I have too."

"No!"

"Hey, partner." Hutch stared at Starsky for one eye-popping moment. "You know --"

"Someone has to do something!" Kiko tearfully interupted. "I'm going!" Kiko yelled and sped toward the pipe.

"Kiko! Get back here!" Starsky yelled as he ran after him. "Oh, know you don't!" Starsky wrapped his arms around Kiko's waist and drug him away from the sewer.

"He's my friend. I have to help him! I know the way. I've been in there before!"

"Kiko, you're not helping!" Hutch watched as Starsky tried to calm the young boy.

"He's my friend. You would do it if it was Hutch in there. Let me go! Let...me... go!"

While Starsky struggled with the determined boy, Hutch saw his opportunity. Limping his way toward the pipe, he quickly tied the rope around himself. A brief glance of the area brought his gaze to a heavy beam lying on the ground. Tying the other end of the rope around the beam, Hutch snagged the flashlight off the ground, and snuck into the pipe. He was well into the sewer when the voice of his angery partner exploded in his eardrums.

"Damn it, Hutch! I'm going to -- "

"Kill me. Do it later, Starsk," Hutch said as he kept crawling, knowing he was in too far now to be drug back out.

There was a few moments of dead silence that swept over Hutch, before Starsky's voice came to him again.

"Hutch!"

"What?" Hutch yelled back loud enough for Starsky to hear.

"I got it!"

"What?"

"The rope, dummy."

"Oh." Hutch smiled.

"I'm right here. I got you!" Starsky said, his voice no longer holding an angry tone.

"Good." Hutch knew, as always, he could count on his partner.

"The rope, it's long, but not that long. If you can't reach him by the end of it --" there was a pause.

"You pull me out, buddy," Hutch finished.

"One tug means you're okay. Two -- I pull you back." Starsky's voice echoed.

"Do-don't let go, Starsk," Hutch answered, as he felt a tremble of fear shoot through him.

"Not a chance, partner." Starsky's voice boomed. "Not a chance."

TBC

**Reader's homework: Which chapter did you prefer and why...**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Hutch used his elbows and knees. As he pulled and wiggled through the damp pipe, he felt the rope around his waist draw tight. The pipe was slippery and cold drops of water plopped down onto his back, head, and legs as he followed the downward slope. It was difficult to maneuver in the tiny confines. The interior of the sewer seemed to be filled with unpleasant vapors that made Hutch's eyes tear. Trying not to breathe wasn't an option, as he plunged deeper down the length of the pipe.

The smell reminded Hutch of the time he left a porcelain vase of budding roses in the greenhouse. He'd forgotten all about them, and when he went to dispose of the shriveled dried up flowers he had dropped the vase. It had shattered into a million pieces -- the smell of the rancid water gagging him.

"Uhgggg," he moaned, out loud as his knees scrapped over something sharp, possibly glass.

"What? You hurt?" Starsky called.

"It's --" Hutch tried to glance over his shoulder, but the pipe was too narrow. "It's slippery -- hard to breathe."

"Come on out, now!" Starsky issued his rapid fire order, the echo of his voice easily heard.

"No! I'm fine," Hutch replied quickly.

Hutch continued to ease forward, the tunnel narrowed further, and his flashlight didn't seem as bright. He attributed that to the extreme darkness. The place was like a tomb, the walls like ice. Further down, Hutch could hear water and knew there was a lot of it. The smell got worse, and he struggled to keep from gagging by sucking air in and out of his mouth instead of his nose.

"Desmond," he choked on the overpowering vapors. "I'm a Police Officer. I'm coming to get you."

He got no response, the flashlight still doing little to help him see. Hutch shivered, as he felt the wet ooze all around him.

"Hutch," Starsky's voice boomed in his ears again. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Hutch answered.

"What's it like?"

"It's dark, dummy."

He felt some security knowing his partner was at the other end of the rope. The tunnel was just large enough to fit Hutch's frame. No way Starsky's wider build would make it.

The further Hutch crawled the colder it got, and the more his heart thundered in his chest. It was hard to breathe in this tight place. The smell made him think of mushrooms and moss, and the lack of oxygen made him feel lightheaded. Hutch swallowed back the sour taste that bubbled up from his stomach. The kid was smaller, could move faster. The smell probably not getting to him as fast. Maybe the kid was immune to it or just maybe he was part mole, Hutch thought. He moved the beam of light around, and noticed some scratches on the wall, shining the flashlight on the carvings he read the words, the same words that were painted on his car.

'Die pig.'

The words were disheartening, but somehow didn't seem to matter as he crawled faster down the cement cave. Hutch felt cramped, now he knew what a bullet coming out the barrel of a gun felt like. He raised his head only to bump it against the roof of the sewer.

"O -- " he quickly clamped his mouth shut.

Hutch cringed as he felt the throbbing bump form on the top of his head. For a moment he stopped, held his breath and listened. The place was creepy, and all he could hear was the echoing sound of dripping water and his own rapid breathing. It felt like it was the dead of night, yet Hutch knew it to be day. Somehow in here he figured it didn't matter days and nights were as one. Starsky's fear of small tight places would have sent him into a panic. As it was, Hutch was having a hard go of it. His ankle hurt and he groaned but quickly clamped his mouth shut again to keep the echo from reaching his worried partner. If Starsky thought something was wrong he'd yank Hutch back before he had a chance to find the boy.

"Hutch!" Starsky's voice startled him and his head jerked upward hitting the lump on his head.

"Ow!" Hutch couldn't help but yelp this time.

"What's wrong?" Starsky's nervous voice came to him. "Hutch?" he felt the tug of the rope.

For a moment, Hutch couldn't answer. It was hard to breathe, and everything seemed to blur and close in on him. Hutch tired to calm himself to take in deep breaths and concentrate on feeling the flow of air in and out of his mouth, but it only served to make him dizzy, and he felt his eyes spin in his head.

"Just keep feeding me the rope. I'm okay," he called out, as he wiped a wet slimy hand over his face trying to keep himself from passing out. The smell coming to his nose made him gag, and he had to pause to catch his breath.

Hutch looked ahead of him beyond the darkness, the tunnel branched off left and right, like the fork of a tree. He held his breath, feeling disoriented and debating several minutes which way to go, when he swore he could hear a small whimper.

"Desmond," he called, as he tried to see as far ahead of him as he could, but the flashlight seemed to dim. "Damn it," he swore and shook the casing -- the light becoming brighter again. "Don't die on me now," he whispered.

"Hutch." Starsky's voice echoed from far-off but Hutch could hear the tone of fear in it even still. "Calvary is here." Hutch felt the tug of the rope once more, and pictured his panicking partner yanking him back, hand over hand. "Come on out."

He took in a deep breath, and yelled, "Starsk, it-- it's all right. D-don't," he panted, as he twisted and struggled to grip the rope, and give it one tug.

"Somebody," came a weak voice just up ahead.

"I can hear him!" Hutch yelled loudly as he slithered toward the left passageway, hoping he had judged properly the direction the voice had come from.

The tunnel slopped further downward, and Hutch clutched tighter to his flashlight. "Desmond, talk to me," he called.

"Hello," came the voice, stronger this time.

"Almost out of rope," he heard his partner's fading voice.

"Almost there," Hutch yelled back as loud as he could.

The tunnel widened only slightly as he clumsily moved along feeling like an oversized gofer. Suddenly, the pipe opened to a large chamber and Hutch found himself peering down into a water filled pit. There was only a few inches between Hutch and the pit, and he could barely squeeze his shoulders through the opening of the tunnel he'd been in. He was no engineer, but whoever constructed the place had a real lack of structure and design -- hell, the guy probably even cut butter with a chainsaw.

"Desmond!" Hutch shined his light downward, and flicked it wildly about, until he came upon a form huddled against the wall, chest deep in mucky black water.

The flashlight dimmed again and Hutch fearfully slapped it against his other hand. Behind him he could hear the sounds of sirens, and a mixture of many different voices. At least the backup had arrived. "Come on, you son of a --" Hutch swallowed and sighed as the light brightened. He was cold and sweaty, the beads like icy needles that coursed down his body and made him shiver and feel sick. His ankle throbbed, the smell here was worse then ever, and he forced the bile back down his throat.

"You all right, boy?"

"What are you doing here? You're that cop!" Desmond tried to sound strong, but Hutch could hear the quiver in his voice.

"What are you doing in here?" Hutch shot back.

"Hiding out." Came the short and tight reply.

"The jails are lined with people who thought they could hide out." Hutch shined the light around. The pit was a good six feet deep, full of muck and its walls were smooth and clay-like. Hutch heard a loud plopping sound, shining his light to the right hand corner he could see a small pipe where a steady stream of water was pouring in. "Shit," he mumbled.

"You're not going to arrest me!" the boy shouted.

"Right now all I want to do is get you out of there!" Hutch said in frustration.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, cop!" Desmond shouted. "Not going to jail or back to Juvei."

"Desmond, you're eventually going to have to face reality in your life of budding crime." Hutch glanced around the mud-lined walls that looked as smooth as cake frosting, but not nearly as appetizing."Sooner or later you're going to be two steps too slow and a bullet is going to catch you in the chest," Hutch said trying for tough love. "Or you'll drown in a pit of muck." Hutch raised a brow.

"So what?" Desmond coughed. "You going to cry about it cop?"

"I'll be honest with you, kid," Hutch said, laying the flashlight off to the side. "Right now -- I don't like you very much. You've dragged Kiko along for a bad ride." He inched closer to the edge feeling the tightness of the rope and knowing there wasn't much more length left. "You're not fooling anyone. I know you're scared, and I'm not going to leave you here," Hutch said reaching one hand down. "Come here and give me your hand."

"I'm not scared, pig," Desmond said, his tone dripping with venom, and inching back a step. "And I wish -- aargh!" The boy cried out as he slipped.

"Desmond!" Hutch shouted as the boy's head went under the muck, but just as quickly popped back up.

"I…I…I'm not scared," the kid spat ooze from his mouth.

"Fine. So you're not scared. Just let me --"

"Hutch!" Starsky's voice cut in. "What's happening? You okay?"

"Okay! Just give me a minute." Hutch yelled as loud as he could, the effort bringing on an ugly cough.

Ignoring the pressure in his chest, Hutch nudged closer to the pit with his elbows stubbornly reaching again for the boy. "Give me your hand!" he gritted out between his teeth. As the rope dug into his waist, Hutch felt like it was squeezing his stomach up into his throat. "Mmmm," he moaned.

Hutch's ankle was racked in agony, but he didn't flinch, didn't even blink, as his cold tingling fingers moved to undo the rope. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and knew if he fell into the mucky pit there would be nothing to help pull him out again. He to, would have to wait for help, and with each passing moment the water was rising higher. For a moment he couldn't breathe, couldn't swallow as numb slick fingers sought to work the knot.

"What are you doing?" Desmond gave Hutch a puzzled look.

"Get--" Hutch paused just as he had gotten the rope untied. "Getting this rope off," he said, his breath coming in white puffs, like a runaway freight train. "Starsky, listen to me." He looked back over his shoulder. "Don't pul --" Hutch coughed loudly unable to finish, as everything got dark and shadows spun around him.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Hutch! Hutch!" Starsky's far-off voice bled into his muddled brain.

"Hey cop," another voice penetrated the roar of his own heart in his ears.

"Hutch! Answer me!"

The desperation in Starsky's voice finally broke through and Hutch's eyes snapped open. It took him a minute to adjust to the dim flashlight again. Suddenly worried, Hutch frowned as he ran a hand over the slime. Finding the end of the rope, he smiled slightly. His partner hadn't panicked. Hadn't drug the rope out of his reach. "Starsk," he croaked. "I'm okay. Just give me some time. Don't pull!"

"I hear you." Came the voice of his trustworthy partner. "Don't worry. You and me both know you can do this, Hutch," Starsky's voice ricocheted down the tunnel.

Wheezing and gasping, Hutch left the end of the rope where it lay in the muck, and slithered forward. He felt more wetness soak him through, as he hung-half his body over the pit. His hair was soaking wet and dripping down over his forehead. It was hard enough to see by the dim misplaced flashlight. Hutch shook his head, moving the wet strands of hair out of his eyes.

"Should have gotten that haircut," he coughed and took a breath.

"What'd you say?" Desmond asked in a jittery tone.

Hutch reached his hand downward. "Give me you're hand."

Looking into the boy's eyes he could tell he was scared, and untrusting, but he didn't seem any worse for wear. Being at the lower level the fumes didn't seem to have gotten to the kid and although he was soaked through and covered in gunk he looked alert and strong.

"You shouldn't be here. Why are you here, pig?" The frightened teen snarled, but his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"Desmond," Hutch spoke softly. "You don't belong in this dangerous place anymore than I do and I'm going to get you out of here. I promise you that."

Desmond's face scrunched in confusion. "But -- but you're a cop. Cops killed my --" The boy bit off his words. "Why? Why would you help me? After what I did to you and --"

"Look, forget about me right now," Hutch said trying for a different approach. "What happened to your father was a bad thing. I can' t say I understand, but I know this much -- I want to like you, too help you."

"How can you want to like me after what I did?" Desmond asked in confusion.

"Because you've had a tough time of it and I want you to know you have a friend. You're not alone in this world. People care."

"You're lying!" Desmondstruggled to back away from the outstretched hand, his open mouth taking in a gulp of mucky water. "Help," he gurgled and spit, as he took another step backward.

"Desmond, I want to help you! Come here!" Hutch's frustration mounting as fast as the water. He took a breath, wiggled his fingers and lowered his voice. If you'd give me a chance-- " Hutch winced as he felt his body weight drag him over ooze and stone. The whole place reminded him of the time he fell into his grandfather's hog pen. Only getting out of this wouldn't be as easy as climbing over a four foot fence. "You might like me too -- see me for more than just -- just another cop," Hutch breathed heavily. "Trust me."

Desmond's eyes were bright with tears and he seemed paralyzed in one spot. "I--I can't."

"Boy! This isn't a rock throwing contest. This is your life. Take my hand!" Hutch yelled in angry desperation.

"Hutch!" He heard his best friend call.

"We're okay," Hutch yelled back in as forceful of a tone as he could.

Desmond took three steps forward and grappled for the offered hand. "I can't reach."

"Come on -- reach!" Hutch stretched further but it was no use. He twisted slightly and nabbed the flashlight. "Look around for something you can use," Hutch instructed.

Desmond swished his hands around in the thick goop. "Find anything?" Hutch asked as he kept shining the light for the boy to see.

"I can't --" Desmond cried just now seeming to understand the situation, as he froze in place.

Hutch snapped as he sensed the boy's despair. "Desmond! I want you to look at me. Nowhere else -- only at me."

"There's nothing," Desmond uttered as he swayed and struggled to stay on his feet.

"You're going to be okay," Hutch softened. "Just calm down and help me out a little here. Move your hand around. There has to be something."

Desmond nodded and went back to swishing his hand through the thick as a chocolate milkshake water.

"It's okay." Hutch shined the light on the water pipe across the pit. Water was flowing in faster now, but he kept calm not wanting to alarm the boy. "Slow. Take-take it slo-slow," Hutch said gulping in air, as he flashed the beam back down.

Just as Hutch was desperate enough to let himself fall in and go after the boy, Desmond pulled a large branch from the muck. "I got something!"

"Okay, hold on tight to it." Hutch dropped the flashlight at his side so the beam would shine over the pit, affording them some light. "Reach up."

Desmond waded over and raised the limb upward. Hutch took hold of the limb and began to pull. It took a second of jerking and jostling, but the limb did the trick. It gave Hutch that extra few inches of arms length he needed. As the boy clambered and clawed his way up, Hutch got a hold of the boys hand, letting the branch plop back into the drink.

"That's it! Easy now, boy. I got you -- I got you." Hutch gripped the smaller hand hard panting from the exertion, as he tugged.

Just as Hutch had the teen on his belly upon the ledge the flashlight went out. "Ah!" Desmond cried out as he squirmed in Hutch's grasp.

"We're going to be okay," Hutch softened as he felt the boy trembling so hard he thought he might slip back into the pit. "Where's your flashlight? You must have had one." Hutch thumbed the flashlight off and on several times with no luck.

"Lost it when I fell."

Hutch rattled the casing trying again. Nothing. No light -- the sewer was dark as death.

"Hutch!" Starsky's voice penetrated the darkness like a thunderclap startling Hutch.

"What the hell's he using? A bullhorn?" Hutch muttered.

"We're coming in to get you."

"No!" Hutch shouted over his shoulder. "Not enough room. Just wait for my signal."

"What -- what now?" Desmond stuttered.

"We're getting out of here."

"It's dark. How are we going to find our way back?"

"Here." Hutch shoved the flashlight into the boy's hand. "Keep trying to get this thing to work," he said busily searching with trembling cold fingers for the end of the rope.

"On-- on that roof. I wanted to --"

"Kill me." Hutch shrugged.

Desmond's voice quivered, as he banged the light against the cement. "If I get out of here -- I --" he paused. "I might still want to."

Somehow the old wives tale about the scorpion who rode on the frog's back to get across the river rang a bell. But, Hutch dismissed that image as he could feel the anger drain from the boy's tone. He couldn't see the questions and fear in the young face, but he knew the threat was a hollow one.

"We are going to get out of here and I'll take my chances later." Hutch was wedged in tight he wiggled and cursed under his breath until he finally found the end of the rope.

"I'm not afraid of you, cop," Desmond gave one last feeble attempt at smacking the flashlight around.

"Hutch. Call me, Hutch," he puffed.

"Hey!" Desmond's proud face was lit by the flashlight suddenly deciding to come back to life.

"Good work." Hutch smiled. "Nobody wants you to be afraid of me," he said just as he got the rope tied around his waist.

Desmond didn't say anything, just gave a quick nod of his head.

"Tell -- tell you what," Hutch panted. He looked Desmond in the eyes he knew the boy was scared even if he wouldn't admit to it. "Just trust me. I won't let anything happen to you." Hutch felt weak, but he made his voice sound convincing. "Neither one of us is going to go out that way!" he said with confidence, as he wrestled and wiggled himself backward.

"Besides. It's a stupid way to die." Hutch tried to offer what comfort he could. "Say it."

"Yeah, stupid," Desmond said, as he shivered, coughed and gagged the slime from his nose and mouth.

"You hurt?" Hutch asked.

"My ankle hurts."

"Just hang tough."

"This is going to be some trick getting out of here." Desmond tried to sound full of himself but Hutch could hear the underlining quiver in his tone.

"No trick. I got a partner on the other end of this rope, and he won't let go Understand? "

Hutch paused a moment, tugged at his shirt collar and frowned. Desmond didn't seem to be bothered by the fumes. "How many times you been down here?"

"Plenty of times, cop."

"Hutch."

The boy must have some sort of resistance or maybe it was Hutch's broken ankle and lack of sleep that was giving him so much trouble. Hutch shook the woozy feeling from his head. "You just keep a hold of that flashlight for me," he said. Hutch tugged twice on the rope. "Get us out of here, Starsky!" he yelled with as much strength as he could muster.

Hutch felt the pull of the rope and started to worm his way out feet first, there just wasn't enough room to turn around and crawl out face first. "Stay close," he said, one handedly he gripped Desmond's forearm to help guide him.

"O-okay," the shivering boy readily agreed.

It was like trying to wiggle their way out of a mud packed grave, Hutch thought, as the going was much slower than it had been when he first dove headlong into the pipe.

"Keep coming. We're almost out," Hutch informed the shivering boy.

"Cop -- " Desmond paused and took a shaky breath. "I mean, Hutch? I -- I -- I'm --"

Desmond stopped talking and Hutch didn't have to wonder why, as he felt the warmth of tears drip down unto his hands, as the boy's bravado finally crumbled.

"It's okay. I'm scared too," Hutch gentle spoke.

Hutch got only racking sobs as a response. He could feel the boy break down as he trembled, and could feel how scared and confused he was. "Talk to me, Desmond."

"Hutch!" Starsky's voice echoed through the sewer. "What's going on?"

"Almost there, Starsk," he said as he could see a small amount of light flooding into the pipe behind him. Hutch turned his attention back on the boy. "Desmond, what is it?"

"Nothing."

"Something." The flashlight flickered out again, but this time it wasn't so dark. Hutch heaved a sigh. "Tell me something about yourself?" Hutch asked as he kept them back peddling and trying to distract the obviously shaken teen.

Desmond took a deep breath then said, "You ever get the shit kicked out of you by every single person you ever knew or thought you loved?"

"Nope," Hutch said, deciding to be honest as he wiggled back and forth his movements slowing. "But I've seen a lot of people go to jail and I've seen too many good cops buried for no good reason," Hutch grunted and held back a curse from the pain in his ankle, and the thick haze that threatened to turn everything black. "I can't say --" Hutch coughed hard could feel his body shaking, his heart racing, like he might pass out cold, but he kept going. "I cant' say I understand what you've been through," he struggled to keep the coughing at bay. He wanted to say this to the boy before they were bombarded with police and rescue crews. "But, son, you've got to be getting tired of crawling out of bed every morning and saying you're going to screw up your life and everyone else's around you. Am I right?" Hutch asked as more daylight flooded the tunnel over his shoulder.

"Yes," Desmond choked.

"I'd say you've been through enough and I want to help you earn yourself a break. You interested in a friend?" Hutch asked.

He shook his head, and blinked as he continued to try and keep a steady gaze on the teenager's face. Desmond was talking, but Hutch couldn't hear. It felt like the ooze of the sewer had filled his eardrums. His breath rushed in and out of his mouth, everything seemed to flip him round and round, inside out, upside down and diagonally. He tried to get his bearings but suddenly felt like he was inside a funhouse tunnel at an amusement park. Everything was black and speckled with stars as the cylinder rotated anti-clockwise.

Just as he thought he might vomit, Hutch felt the grip of steady hands on his calf muscle powerfully tugging backward.

"The boy," he gasped, as his belly was drug over rock and he drug fresh air in through his nose. "Des -- "

Hutch's mind became muddled. As it galloped in all sorts of directions, his thoughts didn't make any sense. He thought about odd things. Like the time Tommy Wallace and his gang had stuffed him in his gym locker when he was thirteen. How he had kicked and banged and beaten on the metal door the stale musty smell abusing him for hours before the night janitor finally found him and let him out.

"L-let me out," Hutch desperately sucked in deep breath after deep breath, as he flipped himself over onto his back.

"Lie still, another ambulance is coming." He heard Starsky's voice, only this time it didn't boom and echo.

Hutch's ankle twitched with pain and he panted hard as he tilted his head upward. "Ughhh!" The sky was spinning.

"Can you breathe okay?" Starsky asked.

"Not -- not good," Hutch sputtered, and his eyes fluttered.

"Hey! Hey!" Fingers snapped in front of his face. "Stay with me," Starsky said, but the words racing through his head didn't help to clear Hutch's thoughts.

There was a thumping in his ears, a numbness in his limbs, and he could hardly catch his breath. Confusion set in as everything whirled around his head, silver dots replaced the cloudy sky, and a circus of noise filled his senses. Darkness began to gather around once more, and his chest felt tight, his throat like someone had stuffed a rag down it, his breath coming in short gasps.

"He can't catch his breath." He heard Starsky bark. "Get the oxygen!"

"C-cold," Hutch muttered.

"And get me a blanket."

"Starsk?"

Someone grabbed his hand and squeezed so hard Hutch could almost feel his knuckles turn white.

Hutch's whole body felt like it was made out of lead, but he forced himself to squeeze the hand in return.

"Just take it easy." A disembodied voice spoke.

"At a boy," the voice in his ear said. "You're okay. It'll be all right."

Hutch opened his eyes to see Starsky leaning over him cradling him in his arms, and a crowd of people gathering around before everything went as black as the tunnel he was just in.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you again dear reader for sharing your time with me. And dear Strut for all her wonderful beta work. You helped me so much!**

**Happy days..Dear Pooh! **

**Wish well..dream well...be well!**

Final chapter below::

Chapter seven

Hutch didn't know how long he'd been in the dark, but the mucky pit suddenly disappeared and was slowly replaced by light. He swore he could smell his partner's aftershave and he crinkled his nose, but everything was a gnarled mass of jumbled images.

"I think he's coming around," an unfamiliar voice stated.

Hutch felt a warm gentle hand tap gently on his cheek. "Hmmm," he mumbled and held his breath, as chills raced up his spine.

"Look me in the eye, buddy. Hutch!" The hand now cupped his shoulders, and he felt the plastic mask that must have been placed over his nose. "Take deep breaths. Come on, partner, deep breaths." The hand shook his shoulder.

"The boy?" Hutch sucked in a breath, as his eyes flicked open once, then spun in his head. "Ou--out. G-get 'em ou--" he gasped.

"Buddy, he's out. You both are."

Hutch frowned and titled his head toward the side. "I am?" he choked. "Fr-freezing."

"You're soaked clean to the bone." The words sounded far-off as if he was dreaming. A hand raised the blanket higher onto his chest and tucked it tight around his shivering body. "It's okay, Hutch. You did it, buddy."

"Stars," he choked, his shoulders raising up off the ground. Hutch forced his eyes to stay open, and immediately caught the sight of Starsky's worried face hovering over him. "Des--" he choked.

"Kids fine, Hutch. He's too mean to die, partner. Kiko went with him to the hospital. Looks like he broke his ankle. Poetic justice if you ask me," Starsky rambled. "Just take it easy. How you feel?"

"I -- I don't know. Can we--" Hutch's shoulders sagged. "Sl-slow." Hutch drew in another breath. "Can we slow it down a bit?" Hutch blinked heavily as he tried to keep his eyes focused on Starsky. "Wha' happen?"

"You passed out, pal. Not enough air in that rancid tube. The kid's okay," Starsky repeated, a relieved smile flashed across his face. "How do you feel now?"

"C-cold and--and wet." Hutch tried to sit up, but the numbness he'd felt earlier had worn off and the pain from his ankle dropped him back against his partner. "Ohhh, m-my ankle," he whimpered, and squeezed his eyes shut to a slanted ray of sunshine that crept out from behind a cloud and seemed to burn them.

"Yeah, buddy, it's going to need recasting."

Hutch opened his eyes, and lifted his head slightly to peer down at his ankle poking out from under the blanket. The now wet plaster of paris hadn't held up well to the dampness of the pipe. The skin around the dissolving cast was red and bruised, and Hutch could feel the bone in his ankle as the cast no longer held it in place.

"Oh man," he groaned painfully, as he slowly let his head fall back.

"Shh. Just take it easy, buddy," Starsky captured the sides of Hutch's face between gentle hands. "Second ambulance is on its way. You just stay quiet and --"

Before Starsky could finish an ominous shadow blocked the sunlight from Hutch's eyes and he caught the sight of his Captain. "What is that?" Dobey pointed a finger at Hutch. "What are you two doing here?" His voice full of anger. "I've warned you about private parties," he yelled, now shaking his finger violently about.

Shivering hard, Hutch couldn't help but think that finger looked more like a butcher knife and their captain was about to slice them both open.

"IfI've told you once -- I've told you a thousand times. What? Am I talking to the walls? You wait for your backup!" Dobey frowned and waved a hand before his nose. "You two smell like a sewer."

"Was an accident, Cap," Starsky lied.

"Hutchinson accidentally fell in." Dobey pointed at the rope lying on the ground. "Good grief! How stupid do you think I am?"

"Not very," Starsky whispered under his breath.

"Starsky!" Dobey's sharp voice seemed to slice right through Hutch and he shivered uncontrollably. "Not very is right!"

"Yes, sir," Starsky muttered.

"Your partner has a broken ankle. Don't either of you ever think before --" Dobey suddenly stopped talking for a moment, and his anger seemed to soften like a frozen stick of butter melting in the sun. "Good Lord, young man," he said, looking directly at Hutch. "You look like you're covered in liver mush."

"Desiccated liver mush." Starsky swiped a finger over the gunk encrusted at Hutch's hairline.

Hutch opened his mouth to protest but gritted his teeth instead, the words never leaving his throat, as another ambulance just pulled in.

"Get this officer to a hospital now, before he catches his death!" Dobey yelled. The medics who'd been standing at bay afraid to step into the ring, moved in. "See that they both get a shower too!" Dobey mumbled as he lumbered back to his car.

Hutch couldn't make himself stop shuddering, as goose bumps popped up all over his body.

"Dobey's right, Hutch. You need a shower, you look like you rolled in liver mush, and those clothes of yours are on strike," Starsky gave a small chuckle.

"Sp-speak for yourself," Hutch wheezed and closed his eyes.

"How you feel?"

"Tired," Hutch mumbled, as he felt himself lifted up onto a stretcher. "Uhhhh." He fought not to pass out, but the warm gentle hand of his partner on his forehead was enough to relax him as he slumped back into unconsciousness.

TAG

**6-weeks later**

The falling water dripped from his hair and rolled down his shoulders as Hutch stood in the squad room shower. His forehead wrinkled and he frowned, although the cast was off he still felt a twinge of pain every now and again in his still healing ankle. Trying to adjust his weight, he slipped.

"Ow," Hutch groaned, his hands flat bracing himself against the shower tiles stopping him from falling to his knees.

"What is it?" Starsky's voice came in a rush from just outside the shower door. "You hurt?"

"No." Hutch wiggled his ankle back and forth. "I'll be okay. Ankle'sjust acting up," Hutch said shutting off the water and opening the stall door coming nearly nose to nose with his overprotective partner.

"You sure?" Starsky asked as he handed him a towel.

"I'm sure, buddy." Hutch wrapped the towel around his waist. " Just help me over to the bench , would you?

"You have to ask?" Starsky held his arm and helped Hutch over to the bench.

The door opened and Silverman walked in. "Hey, you two need a hand?" he asked as he set his duffle bag down on the bench.

"No, we're good," Starsky said. "Hutch here's still got a bad ankle."

"Yeah, that was something else, Hutchinson," Silverman said as he quickly undressed and stepped into a shower stall. "I heard about you not pressing charges against that kid and risking your life. You really saved the day." The water turned on.

"Was nothing," Hutch said, nabbing a sock and making sure to put it on his right foot first.

"Hey!" Starsky howled. "Everybody puts their left--"

"Not everybody, Starsk." Hutch looked up and smiled.

"Hutch, how's that kid doing by the way?" Silver piped in from behind the shower door.

"He's in a new foster home, on probation, but back in school and talking to a counselor," Hutch said wincing when he tried to put his left sock on.

"Here! Smart Ass." Starsky bent down to help him.

"That's great," Silverman said.

"Maybe we should cancel the amusement park with the boys today, Hutch?" Starsky looked up at his partner. "You're not going to make it all day walking around --"

"No." Hutch shook his head. "Desmond is just starting to trust me. Starsk, I'm not canceling."

Starsky nodded. "Okay, buddy."

"Hey, Starsky I forgot my shampoo," Silverman called from under the shower water. "You got any I can borrow?"

"Sure," Starsky reached over and plucked a bottle of shampoo from Hutch's gym bag. "You can use Hutch's."

"Starsk, wait." Hutch reached out a hand to nab the bottle but it was too late, as his quick on his feet partner had already handed the shampoo over the stall door to Silverman.

"Thanks, man."

"So Hutch," Starsky said as he sat back next to his friend and started to take off his shoes. "After I shower where are we picking up --"

"Hey…I hate ketchup, " Silverman cut in loudly, popping his head out from around the stall door and wiping a glob of red from his eyes.

"French fries with that ketchup, Silver?" Hutch sheepishly said. "Sorry, that was meant for--"

Starsky gave Hutch the evil eye. "You!" He pointed a stiff finger at him.

"You two got a real problem." Silverman's frown shown through the splash of red still hanging on his brow.

"You could say that," Hutch drawled.

"I said it before and I'll say it again." A slow smile formed on Silverman's face. "That's some act you two have going."

"Sorry, Silver," Hutch apologized.

Silverman licked his lips. "Next time try Dijon mustard instead -- would you?" he popped his head back behind the door.

"You're a good sport, there Silver," Starsky playfully punched Hutch in the shoulder. "'Ol Blue Eyes here is two up on me. He's due for some payback. Silver, maybe you and I can team up and --"

"Vengeance is mine. You two better be on guard -- I work alone," Silverman said with a lighthearted chuckle. "Guess I've joined your act."

Hutch looked at Starsky. "High school gym," they both said in unison.

The end.


End file.
